


Subversion

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha Gladio, Alpha Nyx, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Courtship, Fluff, M/M, No dubious consent, Omega Noctis, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 15:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11466291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: The alpha warlord Nyx of Galahd was given the opportunity to name any prize in Lucis for his efforts to save the kingdom. They initially thought he was naming the omega prince Noctis as his prize. As it turns out, Nyx was addressing Noctis for a proposal, not just naming him a prize.





	Subversion

**Author's Note:**

> Also over at my [Tumblr](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/).

The battle had been hard won— the first time in centuries that the Wall had been breached, nearly shattered as troops marched on the city block by block, street by street. There had been traitors in their midst, enough to strike at each gate, to break the fortifications that had held fast for so long under heavier blows. The attacks had been precise, planned for months if not years, and where one fire rose there was already smoke billowing from the next. The attacks had nearly reached the heart of the shining Crown City at their peak. This had been less the might of one army hammering away at another, and more the surgical precision to let bleed a festering wound. 

And now, sat in all his majesty in the secured great hall, King Regis waited for the allies that had helped win them the day. 

The Council sat in their gallery, only Clarus apart from the murmuring as the envoy of warlords from Galahd entered. Clarus had been the one to summon them; who had sent Cor to beg for help from the island nation that had resisted so much with so little help from them. Only the young had answered the call— the old demanding more tact, more diplomatic measures, more promises owed to them from the millennial long alliance Lucis had faltered with when it had mattered most. Only the young joined in the frey, and mostly for the glories that a war could afford them. For the renown and praises and prizes the fight could bring to them and for what they could carry back home. 

Noct stood patiently at his side, his own Shield and adviser close at hand if needed, dressed smartly and sharply— a complement to his father in the hallowed and cavernous halls. Regis glanced to his son before smiling in welcome to the arriving war party of the Ulric clans. 

The leader, Nyx, strode in with the typical posturing of an alpha of his status— head up to meet the gaze of a king evenly, shoulders back, weapons in reach despite the terms of peace that brought him here, steps even and measured and a pace ahead of the din of his party behind him. Regis knew the man by reputation alone, had been pleased to see that wolfish grin among those who had come to their aid, had been glad of the man’s skill and blades, and confidence when they needed it most. He had been happy to see the son of an old friend remember him. He had been grateful to see the warriors of Galahd descending on the invading Niflheim forces with all the vicious cunning he had once only heard of.

Regis was less pleased to see the way the alpha’s eyes lingered on Noct. And his stomach churned at the realisation that the Council’s offers and wordings were going to bring trouble. He remained seated as Nyx stopped at the steps and offered a bow, as Noct gazed with practised disinterest from beneath his mop of unruly hair, as the prince’s Shield stepped closer to his charge. 

“Your majesty,” Nyx’s voice was the only one in the chamber for the moment, the only one to echo off the stone walls before the court that had gathered to observe; the ceremony of the greeting promising a more traditional tone. A Lucian tone; “thank you for your hospitality in the past few days.”

Regis can see the alpha’s eyes dart over to Noctis again— bored, disinterested Noctis, shielded by the guise presented to all members of the court during events like this— and he could see the wariness of Gladiolus already surfacing as others noticed the quick appreciative looks. He could suspect what was coming, and he was already dreading it; “Lord Ulric, the hospitality is the least we could offer to you and your forces. You have offered all of Lucis a great service and are a hero to our nation. Whatever reward I can offer in return, just name it.”

“Prince Noctis,” the swell of voices from the Council and the gallery— hushed approval, mild surprise, no one expected anything different when an alpha with the Ulric reputation was allowed to name any reward in a kingdom famed for its omega prince— was subdued by Nyx’s raised hand; “sorry, Prince Noctis, would you grant me a year to court you?”

The silence that fell broke in waves of hushed voices and anxious clicks and snaps of cameras from the media in attendance— the surprise of the brazen request directed away from the King and towards the Prince, the mask that had slipped from Noct to show his own surprise at the direction of the request more than the subject of it. No matter what came of the blatant, if not quite traditional, proposal, at least Regis could say that he had finally seen his son surprised by a diplomatic event. 

With Ignis stepping close, and Gladiolus already at Noct’s side, all eyes turned to the prince for his reaction, his verdict. His answer to the roguish grin and open features of the strange alpha who had only really just arrived in the city, in the kingdom. Regis could almost see the headlines and articles that would spin this moment of consideration.

The din rose anew as Noctis— Crown Prince of Lucis, omega child to the formidable King Regis, wielder of an Armiger by his own right— offered a small nod to Nyx. “Alright.”


End file.
